


this is what peace feels like

by missbecky



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post-Iron Man movie, Second person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 07:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbecky/pseuds/missbecky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The best thing about being you is also the worst thing about being you. You put on the armor and you soar through the sky and the world falls away so there's only the mission and all that is good, it's very good. But at the end of the day, no matter how much you resist it, you still have to land again. </p>
<p>The armor has to come off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is what peace feels like

**Author's Note:**

> This was the very first Avengers fic I ever wrote, nearly a year ago. I swore to myself then that it would also be the last, that I wouldn't get pulled into another fandom.
> 
> ...oops?

The best thing about being you is also the worst thing about being you. You put on the armor and you soar through the sky and the world falls away so there's only the mission and all that is good, it's very good. But at the end of the day, no matter how much you resist it, you still have to land again. 

The armor has to come off.

****

You don't sleep anymore so much as pass out. 

You're cool with this. 

In Afghanistan you learned how to go without sleep. Well, you learned a lot of things there but this is one lesson that stuck.

Pepper occasionally chides you about it. "I'll sleep on the plane," you say. 

****

Your day starts in Pakistan, uncovering a warlord's cache of arms and dealing with the security forces left to guard it. From there it's off to Western Australia, helping shore up a dam so a flood-swollen river doesn't devastate the town below. After that you give a speech in London. You stand at the podium and your body feels weightless and naked without the armor. You have to keep touching your silk shirt to make sure you're really wearing it. 

You're not sure where you are next. South America, some thick jungle. They fire at you with a SAM missile and you're so damn tired you're just a moment too slow. It explodes close by, too close. You tumble from the air and all you can think is _who the fuck ARE these guys?_

Your armor saves you. That and some trees that are no doubt on the endangered species list. You lie there for awhile after you've landed. It takes a long time to get up.

****

The first time you ask Pepper, she is horrified. "No! Obadiah almost killed you with that thing!"

"He almost killed me when he took the arc reactor," you correct gently. "Pepper." Now you put on the puppy dog eyes no woman -- and few men -- are able to resist. "I need your help. How else can I make sure it doesn't happen again?"

Pepper looks skeptical. "That's all you're doing? Trying to find a way to resist it?"

You hold out the device. "Go on. I give you permission." You smile. "Isn't this the American dream? Having your boss at your mercy?"

"Hmph." She scoffs when she says it, but there is amusement in her eyes. 

You sit on the couch, arrange your limbs in a comfortable position. Pepper puts in the earplugs, winces, and activates the device. 

At once you lose control of your body. You can feel everything. You just can't move. 

Panic wants to set in. You can't move. At all. You try and try, and there is nothing. If Pepper wasn't standing in your field of vision, you wouldn't even be able to look at her. The helplessness is terrifying. What if the world needs you in the next fifteen minutes? What if, God forbid, something happens to Pepper? You wouldn't be able to do anything. You are completely powerless. 

At this realization, something warm and loose uncurls in your chest. Slowly it spreads out to fill your entire body. There has never been anything like this. There aren't even any words for this feeling, the complete euphoria that comes from such a total surrender. You have no responsibilities now, no burdens, no duties.

You aren't Iron Man then. You aren't even Tony Stark. You're just...you. 

This, you think, is what peace feels like. 

****

Even though nothing terrible happens, Pepper refuses to help anymore. "I won't do that to you again. Don't ask me."

So you just do it yourself. By the time you realize you've become addicted to the feeling of powerlessness, you've modified the device several times over so it doesn't wreak such havoc with your blood pressure, while also lasting thirty minutes. You know this ought to worry you, but like so many other things, you shrug it off.

You need this. It's the only way you ever feel safe anymore, the only way you can relax. And it's not just about that. You _want_ this. 

And you always get what you want.

****

Inevitably Pepper catches you in the act. 

"What are you doing?" she cries, angry and scared, her eyes huge in her face. 

It's another fourteen minutes before you're able to participate in the argument that follows. 

Pepper threatens to quit. You sweet talk her out of it, but you don't promise to stop. You need the device now too much, the euphoria that comes from a loss of control, the freedom to cast aside your identity. 

You do try, though, to give her what she wants. You attend glitzy parties, give a commencement address at MIT, do some good in Iraq and North Korea. You wreck your car on the 405 and require eight stitches in your neck from where the seat belt dug into you so hard it cut you. You drink a lot, but never alone; JARVIS is always with you. 

You start to build a new set of armor. Not because you need one. You're just bored. 

****

You're in the garage, working on a more fuel-efficient engine -- Detroit is full of idiots and you could do this in your sleep -- when Pepper walks in. She looks strangely nervous. "Can you come upstairs?"

You eye her suspiciously. But you're willing enough to wash your hands and follow her into the living room. 

"Sit." She gestures to the couch. 

This behavior isn't like Pepper at all. Most likely it isn't even really her, but some clever machination by your latest enemy, whoever's turn it is this week. 

Still, you sit. Pepper says she'll fix you a drink. And as she passes behind you, you hear the unmistakable sound as she activates your device. 

You know it's wrong, because she isn't wearing earplugs, but your body is already reacting like the trained seal it has become. Every muscle goes limp. Endorphins fly over your nerves, the sweet release that comes from losing control. 

Pepper sighs. "Oh, Tony."

Her hands touch you from behind. You startle in surprise, but even though you are free to move, you remain still. 

You don't ask how she managed to copy the sound without actually using the device. Pepper herself does not speak. Her hands are deft on your shoulders, rubbing lightly until you relax enough that she can really dig her fingers in. You wince a little, because it hurts, but you've been living with pain for so long that you honestly can't remember what its absence feels like. So you relax some more, and when she tilts your head forward so she can knead the back of your neck, you make no resistance. 

This is very inappropriate. Despite everything else she does, you're pretty sure that giving massages is not in Pepper's job description. And you've got things to do. That engine you abandoned. Perfecting the alloy in the new armor. You have an idea for--

"Don't." Pepper's hands still. "Don't think. Just...just be."

You open your mouth to tell her how ridiculous that sounds, and also that you really think this needs to stop now, and her fingers hook over your shoulders and pull you back against the couch. That's when you realize you were halfway off the couch already. 

"Don't," she says quietly. 

She drags one hand up the back of your neck and threads her fingers through your hair. One finger traces the outline of your ear. 

A shiver runs through you. It's been a long time since anyone touched you this way. 

You relax again. Pepper's hands are working miracles, easing the knots from your back and shoulders. Warm lassitude settles in your limbs. 

This is much better than using the actual device. In fact this moment, this right here, is the best you've felt in many months. 

Your head droops lower. Your chin is practically resting on your chest. Another minute of this and you'll be drooling. 

Pepper's hands are moving slowly now, not kneading any more but in gentle circles. Soothing, almost. You could get used to this.

Just before you fall asleep, it occurs to you that you were wrong. 

This is the best part about being you. 

 

END


End file.
